The countryside rattled by as the bus made its way along the uneven gravel road. Despite the lush green fields, a cloud of dust trailed behind – an unnecessary reminder just how unseasonably dry this summer had been. Cows grazed lazily, lifting their heads occasionally to low their appreciation to the rest of the herd. Soothed by the warm afternoon sun, it would be another hour or two before they'd have to start their second pilgrimage for the day, retracing their steps along the well-worn track in the direction of the dairy.

A foot on the brakes gradually pressed harder, eventually bringing the bus to a stop at a crossroads. The driver opened the door and waited patiently, even though the isolated stop was abandoned – it had been the same at the last four. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he noted that neither of his passengers were making a belated move to leave their seats. Still, he was happy to wait another minute or two, just in case anyone changed their minds. Truth be told, it was a relief to let some fresh air into the stuffy bus. With each mile under the burning sun, the bus had become increasingly hot as they wound through the green fields and over the foothills. The narrow windows above the passengers' heads had been open all day, but the little air they let in couldn't match a hot summer's day.

With a final look to the empty stop, the driver reluctantly closed the door, its customary thud the signal to start moving again. He glanced in the rear-view mirror, more out of curiosity than expecting another vehicle to be approaching from behind. Out here, where motor vehicles were still a rarity, encountering a farmer and his cart being dragged behind one of the local breeds of mountain ponies was far more likely. But at this hour, most of the work would have been done for the day.

Eased from the edge of the road, the bus continued through the crossroads after the driver's cursory glance to his right, then left. With a shrug of his shoulders, he pressed down on the accelerator, the engine of the bus whining in protest before being abruptly cut short by a grinding gear change. It really was time for the old girl to have an overhaul.

His two remaining passengers hadn't spoken a word since they'd boarded. Stealing another glance in the rearview mirror, his eyes found the older woman. Frau Deutscher. Despite preferring to keep to herself, he knew her mid-week routine almost as well as his own. Without fail, she'd travel into town on a Wednesday to visit her sister. Taking the bus in the morning, she'd catch the last one home in the afternoon. It had been the same every Wednesday for as long as he could remember.

He'd picked up the other passenger at the town square. Ignoring her protests, he'd helped carry her bag on board. As she filed onto the bus ahead of him, clearly annoyed, he'd wondered why he'd bothered. The bag was so light, it must almost be empty. A young thing, she was obviously one of those modern girls. Travelling alone, no time for chivalry, couldn't even offer a simple 'thank you.'

There'd been a handful of regulars who'd boarded the bus with the young woman, but he'd bid the last of them farewell several stops ago. Unlike most of his passengers, he hadn't seen the young woman before, or at least, she didn't seem familiar. Wiping beads of perspiration from his brow with the back of a hand, he glanced in the rearview mirror. She was seated toward the back of the bus and seemed intent on staring out the window. Shifting his eyes back to the road ahead, surely, he'd remember if he'd seen her before.

As the miles stretched out behind them, he found himself wondering which of the few remaining stops would be hers. It was a game he often played whenever a stranger caught the bus. But it wasn't long before his mind turned to more important matters. His stomach grumbled again in protest, reminding him he'd been pressed for time and barely managed to grab more than a quick bite for lunch. He settled back, wondering what his wife was preparing for dinner tonight…

Staring blankly through the dirty marks on the window, the fields rushed by. She hadn't been paying any attention to the world outside – as oblivious to the landmarks that indicated she was nearing her destination, as she was to other passenger. Hugging the scuffed bag on her lap a little tighter, she didn't notice it pressing uncomfortably against her stomach. Why would she? There were so many knots in the pit of her stomach already.

She scolded herself, for what must have been the hundredth time since leaving town. You're being silly, there's nothing to worry about. But once again, her bravado didn't last long, quickly replaced by overwhelming self-doubt and the same nagging questions. Questions that had churned non-stop since standing in the town square, praying the bus wouldn't be running this afternoon, that there'd been some unexpected change to the timetable. She'd felt ill when, it pulled alongside the small crowd that had gathered, right on time. The nausea had only got worse when she took her seat.

Would they be happy to see her? She hoped so, but there was no telling how they'd react. Surely, they'd be surprised. But not as surprised as she was. After all, this wasn't how she'd pictured the day ending.

A hand loosened its vice-like grip on the bag and rubbed at a dry, irritated eye. Trying to blink away the scratchiness, they still felt full of sand. Realising the rubbing was only making things worse, her hand returned to the bag while her thoughts returned to the long list of questions. Would it be the same as last time? She sighed. That was a lifetime ago. So much had happened since then. Hopefully, her sudden appearance wouldn't be met with so much suspicion. Given how she'd left things, it was hard to know. Of course, she'd try to make the best of it, for everyone's sake.

She chewed at her bottom lip, trying not to think of them – not yet, anyway. It was too distressing; there was too much guilt, sadness, anxiety... Although, she'd be forced to think of them soon enough. It can't be much longer. Pushing that troubling thought away, she turned from the window with a frown…

Oh… they'd stopped…

She looked blankly around her, as if just realising she was sitting on a hard seat at the rear of a bus in the middle of nowhere. The only other passenger was an elderly woman, and she wondered how she hadn't noticed the other passengers getting off at their stops. She was sure others had boarded the bus with her.

It was a welcome relief when the fresh air from the open door finally found its way to her, meandering along the aisle towards the rear seats as if it had all day. Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed how uncomfortably warm and stuffy it had become. Almost suffocating...

As nice as it would be to finally get off, she prayed the bus ride could go on forever. But that was unlikely. She'd have to get off eventually. With that thought, she clutched her bag even tighter. Shifting her eyes away from the closing door, she slowly turned back to the window beside her. Tentatively dropping her head toward a shoulder, she sighed at the stiffness in her neck. Too much tossing and turning these past nights.

Rumbling across the uneven planks of a bridge, she stared sadly at the fast-running stream below. She'd often wondered why they hadn't called it a river. Fed by thawing snow caps from high in the Alps, surely it was grand enough to be a river. Why had they…

Panicked, she suddenly realised where they were.

The stop after the next was hers…

The enormity of what she was about to do hit her as forcefully as a bolt of lightning striking the ground during one of those violent, mountain storms. No more pretending, no more hiding. A new wave of nausea swept through her, mingling like an unwelcome guest with the anxiety that had been eating away at her, gnawing her insides, making sleep impossible and every mouthful tasteless and difficult to swallow. She'd been telling herself, it would eventually pass. Now, she just prayed it would stop. It hadn't passed, and it was unlikely to miraculously stop now. God didn't waste His miracles on the likes of her. She'd learned that hard truth long ago.

As the bus pulled alongside the stop, her mouth was already dry with the bitter taste of fear and panic. She would be getting off at the next stop. Bracing herself for what was to come, she glanced at the open door, wondering if she should get off now and walk the rest of the way. A stop early – time to get her thoughts in order. While the bus idled roughly, she argued the point in her head. But just as she found the courage to push herself up from the hard seat, the door closed with a dull thud and within moments, the bus jolted away from the roadside. Too late! Pressed back against the hard seat while the driver accelerated towards the next stop, she realised she'd missed her chance.

Would they really be THAT surprised to see her?

Knowing the answer, she hoped it would be a good surprise. She certainly didn't expect to be welcomed with open arms. Naturally, there'd be some animosity and awkwardness. She let out another sigh, this one heavier than the last. Awkwardness followed her around, like an imaginary friend...

And questions. Lots of questions. Questions she'd struggle to answer. Chewing nervously at her lower lip, perhaps if she expected the worst, then whatever happened would turn out better. That thought barely lasted a few seconds, as 'the worst' flooded her mind. Shutting down those thoughts as swiftly as slamming a door, she couldn't face them. Not yet, anyway...

As a distraction, she hummed softly to herself…

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens,

Bright copper kettles and warm woollen mittens…

Although the words might sometimes change, the tune had always been as soothing as a cup of steaming hot chocolate on a cold winter's night, or the comforting embrace she so often craved. But today, she wasn't so sure…

Over the years, the origin of the rhyme had become as blurred as the handful of happy memories she'd struggled to hold onto. These days, she wasn't even sure if any of them were real. Was it a song her father had sung to her? She liked to think so, but couldn't be certain. They might just have easily been a jumble of words whispered into a hard pillow in the dark of night by a small child, desperate to escape the terrors inflicted by an uncle who'd never cared for the niece he'd never known but was forced to take on anyway.

Gripping her bag tighter, she doubted whether he'd ever been kind-hearted. But he must have, otherwise her aunt would never have married him, would she? If he did possess an ounce of kindness, she'd never witnessed it. Immediately regretting such uncharitable thoughts, a hand lifted from the worn bag, its forefinger quickly tracing a cross on her leg.

Forgive me, Lord…

Try as hard as she could, she'd never been able to banish those years. Just as she hadn't fully forgiven the relatives who must have known. They should have known. How could they not…?

Brown paper packages tied up with strings,

These are a few of my favourite things...

The words had drifted off, just like her humming. Probably best. It only made her think of them – of him. Him… He was the last thing she wanted to think about.

Forcing herself to focus on the countryside, she found herself studying a dirty mark on the inside of the window. A smear from the small hand of a stranger. Wondering who had left it behind, the seconds and minutes dragged by. Was it a child? Perhaps they were so enchanted by the countryside, they'd tried to reach out and touch it. Perhaps it was the hand of someone just like her. Someone who'd sat in this very seat, wondering if any of this was real. Perhaps, she was no different to a child...

Realising the rolling fields beyond the grimy window were slowing, she looked around.

This was her stop…

Swallowing back the bile in her throat, she gripped the handles of her bag in one hand and lifted it off her lap. As she stood, another hand reached for the back of the seat in front to steady herself. For a mad moment, she debated whether she should stay on the bus and get off at the next stop. It wouldn't take too long to walk back from there. But she was just delaying the inevitable.

Time to face your fears…

Stumbling over the words, she repeated them more forcefully in her head, but they still lacked any real conviction.

This was it…

Reaching overhead, she grabbed for the handle of the case, as worn and scuffed as the almost empty bag hanging from her other hand. As the bus slowed to a walk, she made her way along the aisle towards the driver. Jostled sideways, she winced as her left hip struck the back of a seat. But like the older woman frowning her disapproval, she didn't give the pain much thought. Consumed by fear, she was dreading the moment the bus would finally come to a stop. Anxiety gnawed at what was left of the pit of her stomach; reaching up, under her ribs, constricting her chest, making each breath a painful reminder of what she'd desperately tried to forget.

The bus door opened a second or two after stopping alongside the timber bench surrounded by green fields. She forced a smile for the driver – not that she was feeling particularly thankful. Carefully picking her way down the steps, she found herself on the grassy verge of the gravel road. Feeling a little dazed, and not quite sure how the world had conspired to send her here, she turned around and forced another smile at the driver. Too distracted, she didn't notice the concerned look that accompanied his friendly nod. Her mind was already a mile and a half up the laneway that ran off the main road, only a few yards from where she was standing.

Minutes after it had disappeared in a puff of dust, she was still staring where the bus had been. A little disoriented, she turned slowly and walked to the small bench. Dropping down on its weathered timber planks, she took a few deep breaths, fighting against the fear that had settled on her chest. She told herself she wasn't going to shed any tears. Not here, not now. Blinking a few times, scratchy eyes reminded her, she probably had none left anyway.

Looking blankly up and down the road, it struck her that she was truly alone. What happened now, was entirely up to her. With God's help, of course. Not feeling any braver, she took one more deep breath and hoped for the best. Pushing herself up from the bench, she slowly walked the few yards down the road and turned into the lane.

Like the road, it was also gravel, but narrower and a little more unkempt along the edges. Birdsong from the tops of the elms that lined the lane provided a stark contrast to the crunch of her heavy steps. With little puffs of dust accompanying each step, the intermittent shade from the ancient trees was a welcome relief from the sun's heat.

She'd barely walked ten yards down the lane, when she noticed a figure in the distance walking towards her. Stopping, she dropped her bag and lifted a hand to shade her eyes against the sun. Squinting, she tried to make out who it was in the shimmering mirage. Had someone come to meet her? She scoffed at that idea. She was the last person they'd be expecting…

Slowly closing the distance between her and the mysterious figure, she hadn't even realised she was humming. But why would she? The tune was so stilted and uncertain, it was barely recognisable...

All I trust I give my heart to,

All I trust becomes my own,

I have confidence in confidence alone,

Besides what you see,

I have confidence in me…

Thank you so much for reading!

After a short (but busy) break, I finally found time to make a start on my new story. Please, let me know your thoughts!

And thank you for your kind words and support.

Sadly, I still don't own TSOM, but back having a little lend!

"Immerse your soul in love"